


Coming Back Around

by marshv



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Forbidden Love, Kissing, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Post-Canon, Reminiscing, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 13:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13077531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marshv/pseuds/marshv
Summary: Luke was a busy man. An important man. Jedi for the republic and all that. But Han wasn't going to let go of him that easily.





	Coming Back Around

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place a couple years or so after RotJ.

Han met up with Luke at night under the cover of darkness. It was all quiet except for the sound of airspeeders cruising by outside. The room was black, covered in shadows created by the calming blue glow of Chandrila's capitol seeping in through the windows. The only reason Luke agreed to talk to him was because Han had assured him it was important.

It was.

But not to Luke.

Han didn't waste any time when he saw him. He took in the thin, shapely body of the younger man. Gaze traveling down his body, Han gave Luke a subdued smirk when he had finished looking him over.

"You look good in all that black. Real good." He really did. He'd seen the outfit on him a dozen times before. But the color made Luke look too serious. Too severe. Too far from the bright eyed boy he met on Tatooine. But he didn't say that.

Luke met his stare with a blank expression then nodded a silent thank-you as he looked away.

"Han—"

"They put you in it or did you pick it out?"

"Han." His tone was insistent now. Demanding. The hardness of it hung in the air and surrounded them while Luke waited with thinning patience for Han's attention.

But Han wasn't having it. The unfamiliarity of Luke's new personality was outweighed by Han's desperation—his need to keep him nearby. Even if that meant babbling about nothing and getting on his bad side, which he was very clearly doing.

Luke leaving for months at a time instilled in him a kind of panic Han had never experienced.

It was a panic that ran deep. One he refused to give a name to. A panic that took his breath away and made it difficult to focus on anything other than the absence of his friend. A friend who wasn't even bothering to keep his irritation hidden anymore.

"Han," Luke interrupted Han's incoherent thoughts, demanding his attention, with an exhausted sigh. "If you don't have anything important to say then I need to leave. I don't have time for this."

"Oh you don't have time for this?" he retorted. "Don't even have time for your friends anymore?"

The scoff in Han's voice was followed by a disbelieving shake of his head and he took a step towards Luke, who stood his ground.

"You used to. You used to care about everything. Now you just care about what they tell you to."

"No I don't. I've never had time for small talk like this, Han! I wasted the first nineteen years of my life trapped in a routine with no way out. I wasted enough time on unimportant things."

"Oh so I'm unimportant to you is that it?"

Luke hardened his gaze and frowned, clearly offended Han would suggest such a thing.

_Good. Prove me wrong then._

"You know that's not what I mea—"

"No no no you know what?" Han interrupted, nodding. "That's fine. I understand. You got where you wanted to be, you don't need me anymore."

"I have a purpose now, they need me here."

"I'm right, aren't I? Now that you're the only Jedi left, to hell with Han Solo, right? He would never understand."

"Han..."

"He's just a no good smuggler who let me use his ship. Forget that guy."

"Han."

"What?" Han paused his ranting to read Luke's face. He ignored how exhausted it looked. "What do you have to do that's so important that you can't talk to me for a few minutes?"

The way Luke rubbed his eyes made him think maybe Luke was actually tired; He felt a little guilty. But the way he cocked his hip—his other hand resting at his waist—looked suspiciously like irritation. Exasperation.

"I have to be up early."

Ok so it was both.

Maybe he should just get it over with then.

"Fine I'll just say it: It's hell without you around."

Han let it roll off his tongue and the words came out with ease. They had been there for weeks wanting to be said.

Luke didn't look as mad as he did a second ago. He didn't say anything either, but his face had taken on this hesitant sort of interest like maybe he cared, just a little bit, and Han took the initiative to keep going.

"I had no clue where my life was headed before we met. Same thing every day, just with different people. Then you showed up."

He paused, swallowing down a lump in his throat.

"You changed everything, not just for me either. But I got to know you first—before anyone else. Got to see you before everyone in the galaxy wanted a piece of you. I tell people that and they don't believe me,” he laughed, but there was no humor. “I don't blame them."

Han's feet were hard to move and they felt heavier than his heart did. But he managed to ease up to Luke and look him in the eye. Luke was still a head shorter, even with the fancy boots. For a minute, Han forgot who Luke was and instead only saw a pretty young boy half his age, one restless and naive and too inexperienced to intimidate anyone.

"Why would a good boy like you want anything to do with a criminal like me? You're still the prettiest thing in the whole galaxy. I mean it," he assured Luke, ignoring the cracking in his voice. "I've seen it all, kid. And you're the only thing I can't stop staring at."

Luke crossed his arms and the corners of his mouth quirked up in a small smile. It's shy. And Han got the feeling Luke didn't want him to see it.

"Remember Jabba's ship? You were the first person I saw when my sight came back. Hell, you looked amazing. Couldn't get over how good you looked.”

“You kissed me.”

“Yeah. I did. Your face got so red.”

Luke laughed. It was the most beautiful sound he’d heard in years.

“I was so mad at you. It came out of nowhere and I didn’t know what to do.”

They had gotten into a gentle back and forth. A soft conversation that Han needed to have, but one that felt like a punch to the gut all the same.

He remembered opening his eyes and the blur sharpening into visible shapes. Luke came into focus and Han felt like he'd died. He looked so perfect, angelic and forbidden like a rare piece of crystal buried under miles of rock and lava—something he'd have to be really rich or really lucky to see. Han couldn't think of anything yet, brain still foggy even if his eyes had cleared. Couldn't think of anything but how pretty Luke looked, and kissed him. But Luke shoved him away a second later, blushing and scandalized.

“It ended too fast,” Han added, his eyes falling to the floor.

“What did?”

“The kiss.”

Luke said nothing.

Neither of them did.

The silence wasn't as oppressive as it could have been. Instead of suffocating him, it just made Han bolder. It was like there was adrenaline flying through the air, filling his lungs. Luke had that same look that he had before, looking interested, but hesitant.

To his surprise, Luke closed the distance between them, staring at Han as if he were deciphering him by sight alone. Or with the force. Could he do that? Mind reading? Luke took in every line across Han’s face. Every twitch of muscle he committed to memory, eyes scanning him. They were so close, and Han had to strengthen his will enough to not lean in and crush their lips together.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Han attempted, struggling against his intense gaze, bluer than the Kaminoan ocean.

“I know how you feel Han,” Luke stopped staring and backed away with a frown.

Almost immediately Han reached out to grab his arm, gently as he could. But Luke, the kid, flinched away just as he was about to touch him.

“...and I'm sorry,” he finished.

Luke wasn't angry, wasn't annoyed. Han still didn't get all the force nonsense—not nonsense—but if he was good at reading people like he thought he was, he could guess from the slight crease in his brow that Luke was conflicted. Not even a crease really, but his eyes looked different, almost sad. And Han knew it.

“How I feel?” Han said deliberately, incredulous. “I'd say our feelings are pretty similar. They were back on Endor. Remember that? After everyone went to sleep?”

Neither Luke’s expression nor his tone changed, but Han noticed a very visible blush.

“I was on the ship,” Han went on. “I just wanted some time alone. And you pop up out of nowhere with that look on your face.”

Cocking his head, Luke blinked in confusion.

“What look?” he squinted.

Han shook his head, but smirked, voice low.

“You looked like you wanted to tear my clothes off. Don’t act like you don’t know.”

The way Luke closes his eyes and exhales is a warning that Han doesn’t heed. A warning for what he doesn't know. Han’s voice gets ever deeper, huskier, and he actually leans in just a little so he can watch Luke’s face as the blush deepens.

“You asked if I was busy. Then you cornered me in the cockpit and started confessing. Didn't even make it back to the sleeping quarters. Your hair was a mess by the time we got done,” he says. “Never looked better than you did that night, kid.”

Luke crossed his arms, glancing down. And Han sensed the conflict again just by watching his body language. He couldn't stop taking pride in the red flush on the other’s cheeks. With one heavy sigh, he took a step closer, so they were less than an inch apart. To his shock and approval, Luke didn’t budge. Luke’s eyes stayed locked where they were, and now stared at Han’s chest.

It wasn’t the wisest thing to do, but Han had the urge to reach out and touch him. He was finding it harder to breathe the longer they were at this, that same panic prickling at his neck.

It went slow. Han’s eyes softened, even if Luke wasn’t looking at him to see it. One hand, one timid hand, ventured up to Luke’s jaw. It moved gradually, deliberate, and Luke didn’t jerk away this time when Han made contact. He touched him. The sensation was like something silken and delicate. No matter how hardened Luke became, no matter how emotionless he tried to be, he would still retain the gentle features of the boy at Mos Eisley.

“The sounds you made drove me wild.” Han went on, picking up where he left on, trying to keep his tone level and avoiding the cracking from earlier. “Did you ever notice me staring at you before that night?”

A nod. Han was surprised he got a response.

“You were a huge pain in the ass at first,” he swallowed. Touching him, he couldn't stop. “But you were cute as hell. First time I saw you I thought you were a tourist. No way someone like you could come out of a dustbowl like that,” he laughed.

The hand on his face thumbed across Luke’s cheek, lifting his head up, trembling. He had an inkling the conversation was on its last leg. Against his control, his voice did crack, and he didn’t bother hiding it anymore.

“I miss how it used to be. I’d do anything for you, you know? You’re killin’ me here.”

Finally, Luke did something besides nod, and looked at Han, pausing as he simply stared. His face changed, and there was something like hope wrinkling in the corners of his eyes.

“Anything?”

“Whatever you want. You name it.”

Another pause. Luke grimaced like he was in pain, lips in a frown, even with Han still touching his face. It was baffling, his reaction. And Han thought about kissing him. Just pulling him in and sucking his lip until he opened up. There was no telling if it would even work. But Luke was hurting. Han could see it. It wasn’t like a kiss would fix everything but hell, it was probably his last chance, might as well take it right?

Luke nuzzled into Han’s palm, humming, eyelashes brushing against his cheek as his eyes slipped shut. If he didn’t know any better, Han would have said he was smiling, or at least enjoying it. That was a start. The fall of blonde bangs over his forehead looked so innocent, the strands mingling with Han’s breath. They flowed with the movement of Luke’s head, rubbing the hand caressing his face.

Then it all came to a standstill. Luke opened his eyes. Inside, there was darkness, his pupils wide. Han’s breath caught at the sight. He didn’t have a chance to breathe, no chance to prepare. Before he could get another word out, before he could even move, a pair of lips crashed into his own.

Han was stunned, silent. Luke’s mouth slid against his, sucking on skin, drinking him in like he’d never tasted anything half as good. Han eventually gasped into his mouth, head still whirling, and ran his tongue along Luke’s lower lip. It pulled out a groan, a long, embarrassing whine that squeaked out of Luke’s throat.

Darkly clothed arms snaked their way around Han’s shoulders. Fingers found their way into his hair, all the while Luke tongued over the seam of his lips, teeth dragging Han’s bottom lip into his mouth. Sucking. The hand not on Luke’s face dipped down, stroking his back. It pulled him in, rubbing over his trim waist, his hips, grabbing at every curve he could get his hands on.

Even on Endor things hadn't been like this.

There wasn't any time to think. No spare moment to process anything. All that mattered, all Han cared about, was that Luke was on him again, clutching at him, breathing him in like he was air. He missed it. From the gentle, firm massage of hands along his neck, to the plump pair of lips sucking his face, all of it brought back memories of touches he thought would never happen again.

But they were here. Luke was here. And Han dragged his arms around his back like he'd disappear if he let go. Holding on for dear life, grabbing and pulling, their breath intermingled between them. Luke wasn't quiet. He never was. But now he was letting out little sobs, little moans that he sighed directly into Han’s mouth, and Han devoured them all and encouraged him more.

It was Luke who pulled back first. Gasping. He didn't back away at all, arms still entangled around Han and palming at the hair on his neck. Brimming with tears from the emotional exertion, Luke panted, body lax as he leaned into him—the prettiest sight Han had seen in years.

The moments before the kiss, all the uncertainty, vanished. Whisked away in heaving breaths and the wet sensation of lips. They stared at each other, Han in awe of the raw emotion on Luke’s face, so unusual, so rare and incredible. It felt like years since they'd last done that, and with the intensity they just experienced, Han really didn't care how long it had been. Less than a year didn't make a difference when he felt as enamored as he did. A day without touching him was still too long.

Luke closed his eyes and sighed, a bursting puff of air, like he was overwhelmed. The sides of his smile reached his eyes, and he laughed.

“You said you'd do anything, right?” he was still trying to catch his breath, even through the force of his smile and remarkably coherent sentence.

Han took a minute to realize what he was talking about—their earlier conversation—before he nodded an affirmative.

“Yeah. That's right.”

The bangs in Luke’s face were flicked away with a jerk of his head. He stopped smiling. And he fixed Han with a look that tried to be distinguished, regal and serious, but came off so forced that Han had to smirk.

“Good,” Luke looked relieved. “Then don't tell anyone about this.”

Easy. He could do that. Secret relationship? Better than not being with Luke at all, as far as Han was concerned. And he found himself assaulted by a pair of lips again.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure about the ending but eh. Please hit that kudos button and as always, I take [commissions](http://dipperpines.com/fics)


End file.
